


Something Has to Change

by Mntsnflrs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU, Coffee, Discussion of Mental Health, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, References to Depression, Unrequited Love, doyoung going through some shit: the fic, i wish i knew how to explain this au, its not a coffee shop au just... just the coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: That’s where he first saw Jaehyun.In the park, jogging with his colour-coordinated athletic clothing, breaths steaming the air. His ears were as pink as his cheeks. His eyes were curious when his jog slowed to a walk, and then a stop in front of Doyoung. The little LGBT+ pin on his jacket shone in the dull light. He was too beautiful to look at, so Doyoung ignored him.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 88
Kudos: 968





	Something Has to Change

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have much to say on this one, I just hope u all enjoy! xo

Jung Jaehyun inspired a very specific kind of longing, one Doyoung thought he had moved beyond once he realised at the tender age of eleven that he’d never be the princess in the tower rescued by the handsome prince.

At twenty-nine, he was rapidly approaching the cut off for settling down that he’d assigned himself as a teenager. Life truly began after thirty according to everyone older than thirty, but the existential dread he’d never managed to shrug off kept his timeline tight, still more than half convinced he wouldn’t make it that long.

Jung Jaehyun was younger. Only by a handful of years, but to a man contemplating his mortality in a world his species was destroying, those years felt much longer.

Jung Jaehyun was handsome. Much more handsome than Doyoung, and to a man contemplating his own worth in a world that moved too quickly, Jaehyun felt unreachable, untouchable.

There was something about walking at dawn that inspired fits of inconsolable metric realisation. The kind of view as you walked in the early morning dark that led you to believe you were a grain of rice at the bottom of the bag. The kind of grain that got stuck under the folds of the seams, never to be cooked at all.

Still, it was better to get the depressing thoughts out of the way early. That way he could spend the rest of the day calm, knowing his existential dread had already been drained, dissipating into the cold mist of the winter sunrises. Even in the city, the air was crisp enough to make the tip of his nose ache and his lungs burn as he wondered what it would be like to not be here at all.

That’s where he first saw Jaehyun.

In the park, jogging with his colour-coordinated athletic clothing, breaths steaming the air. His ears were as pink as his cheeks. His eyes were curious when his jog slowed to a walk, and then a stop in front of Doyoung. The little LGBT+ pin on his jacket shone in the dull light. He was too beautiful to look at, so Doyoung ignored him.

Until he spoke. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

Doyoung had to look at him for that. “Insinuating I look like shit in the early morning isn’t very polite.”

Jaehyun had frowned, ever so gently, like the expression was unfamiliar to his facial muscles. “You’d look amazing, I think, if you weren’t crying.”

Doyoung raised his hand to his face too quickly, smacking himself in the cheek. Even with the sharp pain of the contact, the hot wetness of tears were certain on the back of his hand. “Oh.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He scowled. “You should keep running or your heartrate will drop.”

“This is a hobby, not a strict lifestyle. If I want to pause my jog to speak to the handsome man crying alone in the park at five a.m, it’s well within my rights to do so.”

“It’s within my rights to tell you to fuck off, too.”

Jaehyun smiled. It was the first time Doyoung had seen him smile, and he was pretty sure the image burned itself into his retinas, because from that moment on, he saw the smile everywhere. “It is. I live just around the corner. Do you want to come up to the apartment for coffee? You look cold. It’s winter, you know. You should at least be wearing a coat.”

Doyoung had a lovely coat at home, hanging on the back of his door. Johnny had bought it for him for his last birthday, and the soft wool still smelt of his cologne. Putting it on as he left his apartment hadn’t even crossed his mind. “You could be a murderer.”

“I could be. You could be, too. If you want, you could send my address to your parents or a friend. Send a photograph of my licence.”

It didn’t sound like something a murderer would suggest, but Doyoung was suspicious by nature. “Why are you being so insistent?”

“Why are you crying in the park without a coat?”

Doyoung felt his frown deepening. Men as handsome as Jaehyun shouldn’t want to help him. They should want to mug him or something. But Doyoung’s nose was cold. The burning in his lungs was less about the harsh air and more about the sobs he hadn’t noticed were clogging his throat. He wanted a coffee, something hot to clear his throat and remind him he could still feel heat, that not all of life was so cold. “Fine.”

Jaehyun raised his brows. “Fine?”

“Show me your licence and I’ll send it to my friends.”

Jaehyun smiled again, this one bigger than the last. This one burnt itself into Doyoung’s chest, his own personal brand. “Great. I’m Jaehyun, by the way. Jung Jaehyun.”

Doyoung nodded as the licence was passed over to his purple fingers. “Kim Doyoung.” He checked the birth date on the licence and almost passed out. Jaehyun was twenty-fucking-four. “Oh, fuck you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Twenty-four. You’re twenty-four? How dare you.”

“How dare I… what?”

“Be twenty-four.” Doyoung passed the licence back. “Hurry up, I can’t feel my toes. If you’re going to take me to your apartment, do it before I just decide to decay here.”

Jaehyun took his licence with clumsy hands, dropping it into the grass. He bent to pick it up and seemed almost shocked to find that Doyoung hadn’t sprinted away from him in the time it took for him to pick the card up. “You’re sure?”

“Not at all. Come on, lead the way.”

Eyes still wide, cheeks and ears still a pretty blush pink, Jaehyun did.

And so the longing began.

-

While Jaehyun set up his coffee machine, Doyoung stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.

The apartment was small, but pleasant enough. Jaehyun had an almost worrying number of plants, but he was eager to admit that he hadn’t bought a single one of them. His friend bought them all for his own small apartment, and always managed to bring them to the very edge of death before Jaehyun gave in and adopted them.

At least it was clean. There was no toothpaste on the mirror, no wet towels on the floor. On the way to the bathroom, Doyoung had seen Jaehyun’s unmade bed, but that wasn’t too bad. He’d expected more.

In the mirror, he saw exactly what he expected. He was too pale, his hair was too long, the circles under his eyes were too dark. He looked like shit.

He lifted his arm and sniffed.

At least he’d remembered deodorant. Sweat was a bitch to get out of cardigans.

“Doyoung?” Jaehyun called. “Your coffee is ready.”

So he meandered back towards Jaehyun’s compact but modern kitchen, to the steaming mug on the countertop. It was chipped. Doyoung smiled. That was more like it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jaehyun shifted from foot to foot. He’d removed his fancy trainers at the door and somehow stood in only socks he seemed younger still. A college athlete maybe. He had the kind of face that would hurt to look at whatever stage of life he was in. He’d probably be more handsome at eighty than most men were in their prime. “Do you want to sit down?”

“Sure,” Doyoung said, not sure of anything at all. He followed Jaehyun to the couch, old and sagging in the middle, and stared out of the big window. The sun was just starting to climb its way into the sky, still sluggish. Winter mornings were always more night than sunlight. The coffee was too sweet when he took a burning sip, but he didn’t care about that.

“So,” Jaehyun said, folding his hands into his lap. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I think you should talk about it.”

“I don’t.”

He sighed, already exasperated. “Kim Doyoung, you are in my apartment, drinking my coffee. Give me something to work with, here.”

In the dim light, Jaehyun looked like an apparition. Something Doyoung’s cracked and bleeding heart had imagined in the mist. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was still stood outside in the cold, pretending to himself that a stranger cared what happened to him. “I turn thirty in a couple of months.”

Jaehyun looked at him, curious. “Okay. What else?”

“That’s it.”

“No, it isn’t.”

His hackles rose. “Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Jaehyun definitely wasn’t an apparition. Doyoung’s imagination would have created someone much more placid, someone who would have nodded along and made the right noises at the right times. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jaehyun. You expect lies in exchange for this sweet coffee?”

Jaehyun frowned. “The coffee is black, just like you asked. I didn’t put any sugar in it.”

“Maybe your machine is broken.”

“It isn’t.”

“Maybe it is.”

“It isn’t.” Jaehyun’s frown deepened. “Tell me why you were crying. I’m not stupid; I know it’s not because you’re nearly thirty. People like you don’t care about superficial stuff like that.”

“People like me?”

“Yeah. People like you.”

He didn’t elaborate.

Doyoung drank his sweet coffee. “My best friend is getting married soon.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve been in love with him for five years.”

Jaehyun blinked slowly. “Okay. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung admitted. “It does.”

“Love as in, you’re still in love with him?”

Doyoung nodded, but almost immediately shook his head. The more he thought about it, the more muddled his emotions became. He’d be thirty soon, and Johnny’s best man. “I thought I was moving on.”

“But?”

He found himself smiling. “Unrequited love is a pain, but it’s a comforting pain. It reminds you that you’re here, for better or for worse. Who am I without it? I think I’m still too scared to find out.”

“You’re worried you’ll never fully move on?”

“No,” Doyoung said. “I’m already halfway there. I’m worried that I’ve loved him for so long that what’s left of me isn’t enough for someone else.”

There was peaceful quiet for a moment. What was Johnny doing now? He’d be asleep, wrapped around Taeyong, mouth pressed against his neck. They’d wake up together and eat breakfast, and Doyoung couldn’t be happier for them if he tried. He just wished he had some of that happiness too, instead of walking away his insomnia, spilling the secrets he tries to ignore to a stranger too good for Doyoung’s messed up shit.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun said. “You must be hurting a lot.”

“I’m ignoring all of my problems, actually,” Doyoung said blithely. “It was going well until this morning.”

“Good,” Jaehyun said. “It’s good that it stopped going well. You need to face your problems to move past them.”

“Says the fucking infant.”

“I’m almost twenty-five. I’m midway through my psychology doctorate. If anything, you’re the one acting like a kid, since it’s usually toddlers that sit and cry when they don’t like reality.”

Doyoung blinked. “Wow.”

“People like you don’t appreciate pity, so I’m taking the other route.”

“People like me,” Doyoung murmured. “You said that before. Who are people like me?”

Jaehyun stared at him. It would be another couple of hours before the sun rose fully, but under the warmth in Jaehyun’s gaze, Doyoung could have sat in the darkness for days. “The kind of person that’s full of life, full of confidence and wit. You’re sad now, and you’re not used to it. You’re not used to feeling helpless, so you don’t know how to get yourself out of it.”

“And do you have a suggestion for me, Doctor Jung?”

“I do,” Jaehyun said. His hair fell across his face in a boyish way, but his eyes were far too knowing for his age. “Stop worrying about being enough for someone else. The only thing that matters is being enough for yourself. The people that matter will love you regardless of how much you feel you have left to give.”

-

He couldn’t blame Johnny. Doyoung definitely wouldn’t have fallen in love with himself if their roles had been reversed. He was an acquired taste by anyone’s standards, and he had no real goal to change that. It meant that the people who stayed were the ones he wanted to stay.

Johnny was one of them, but Taeyong was too.

He couldn’t blame Johnny for that either. Doyoung definitely would have fallen in love with Taeyong if their roles had been reversed.

Taeyong was soft in a way few people were. He was beautiful, kind, graceful. He was so entirely lovable that even Doyoung had felt it for a while, the warmth that sucked you in and kept you content. Taeyong was just like that. He was _good._

He liked to annoy Doyoung, but even that was loving. Even that was for Doyoung’s sake.

It was why he had a key to Doyoung’s apartment, using it almost every day to make sure Doyoung didn’t sleep through the entire morning once he returned from his existential treks.

It was why he entered Doyoung’s apartment and found him awake, on his second coffee of the day, entirely dressed without having to have a shirt thrown at his head.

“Oh,” Taeyong said. He checked his watch. “Eight in the morning? This is new.”

“I didn’t go back to sleep after my walk.”

Taeyong lit up. “That’s great!”

Sometimes Doyoung wanted to punch Taeyong right in his beautiful face. Not really though, because he loved him too much. He just wanted to punch something. Maybe he should take up boxing. “Yeah.”

“How’re you feeling?” Taeyong toed off his shoes and shrugged out of his coat, bought by Johnny, hanging it up next to Doyoung’s wool coat. “I thought we could make breakfast together today. What do you think?”

“I feel fine,” Doyoung said. “Breakfast sounds good. How are you?”

“Great! Johnny left for the office early today because one of the branch managers rang in sick,” Taeyong said, making himself at home in Doyoung’s kitchen. “I got to steal the warmth from his side of the bed, which was nice. How was your walk?”

“Okay,” Doyoung said. Out of nowhere, he found himself admitting, “I met someone today.”

Taeyong looked at him with big eyes. “A new friend?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Taeyong brought his green tea to the counter and sat with Doyoung. “Tell me about them.”

“His name is Jaehyun. He was jogging and stopped to say hi while we were both in the park. I went to his apartment for a coffee.”

“He sounds very friendly.”

“I guess he was.”

“Is he handsome?”

Doyoung sent a withering glare to Taeyong’s innocent expression. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Start this again.”

“I’m not starting anything; I’m just asking you a question. Is he handsome?”

“He’s twenty-four.”

“But is he handsome?”

“Yes!” Doyoung snapped. “He’s fucking hot and nice and he has thick thighs, are you happy now?”

Taeyong smiled. “I am!”

“Well I’m not!”

“Why?”

Doyoung gritted his teeth. “Because you’re going to try and get me to ask him on a date now.”

“Why is that such a big problem?”

“I don’t want to date him.”

“Why?”

“He’s twenty-four.”

“You’ve said that already. Why does it matter?”

“I’m old.”

Taeyong laughed. “I’m almost thirty-one! You’re saying twenty-nine is old when your closest friends are all older than you?”

“I mean spiritually. I am spiritually old.”

“Spiritually you’re a decrepit old man, yeah, but that doesn’t mean your youthful body can’t date while your soul knits.”

“I don’t like you at all, Lee Taeyong. Get out of my house.”

Taeyong pouted. “You love me with all of your big, tender heart. Don’t try and hide from the truth because you’re going through a rough patch.”

Doyoung did love Taeyong with all of his big, stupidly tender heart. That was part of the problem. He had nowhere for his anger and hurt to go, because the two people that had broken his heart were the ones always trying to mend it, and they didn’t even know they were the ones that had hurt him in the first place. Nothing was fair. Maybe it was time for Doyoung to move to the mountains and farm turnips. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, steering the conversation away from the inner soul searching.

“Pancakes?”

“Sounds nice,” he said. He knew he looked sulky, but he couldn’t be bothered to change it. Taeyong just smiled, pausing to kiss him on the cheek before he began wrestling with Doyoung’s overflowing pan cupboard.

-

Meeting Johnny in college was like a coming of age moment in the newest shittiest movie. Doyoung, for a second, felt like the plain main character that was about to realise their true worth.

Looking back, he could see that most people felt like that when they met Johnny. Johnny just had a way of looking at you like you were truly being seen. He laughed so warmly, gave affection so freely that Doyoung felt like he was stood under a burning spotlight. At the time he’d been so absorbed by it that he didn’t realise it was just how Johnny was.

It wasn’t until he introduced him to Taeyong that he realised how Johnny was when he was really falling for someone.

That had hurt.

It had hurt a lot, but it was fine. They deserved each other, which numbed the pain a little. At least they’d both fallen for good people. Doyoung didn’t have to slash any tires, and if he ate too much chocolate for three months and had to deal with constant stress breakouts, that was fine too.

Five years past graduation, he kind of needed to get over his wallowing now. The wedding was scheduled for March, and it was time he got his shit together.

Weird then, that this was the period in which his mind decided to descend into chaos. Weird how he managed to keep his shit together all of these years, and then the moment he received the official wedding invitation in the mail his control snapped like a weak elastic band, and the realisation that he’d spent most of his twenties yearning after someone he’d never have twanged back and hit him in the eye.

That hurt.

That hurt more than the falling.

You can’t avoid falling sometimes, but you can avoid lying in the dirt for half a decade.

Doyoung had just closed his eyes and pretended it was sand in his asscrack instead of mud, like he was lying on a beach instead of a bog.

Now the mud had dried, and looking back over his shoulder, it looked suspiciously like shit.

“Hey.”

He looked up from the frosty grass. “Hey.”

Jaehyun crouched down, peering at him. “You’re not crying this morning. That’s good.”

Doyoung nodded. His fingers were turning purple, but he didn’t mind. He had bad circulation anyway. “How’s the jog going?”

Jaehyun peered up at the dark sky. “Pretty good. It’s going to rain today, you know. It’s due in half an hour.”

“Okay.”

“You should really stop forgetting your coat.”

He’d forgotten socks today too. “I’m okay.”

“Then why are you sat on the grass in a baggy shirt and sweats?”

“It’s a nice morning for it.”

Jaehyun looked back up at the clouds. He didn’t look impressed. “Coffee?”

-

It was too sweet again, but it was better than nothing. The heat of the mug made Doyoung’s numb fingers throb, but it was a welcome sensation. If only he could stick his frozen toes on the mug and not look like a fucking idiot.

Jaehyun watched him steadily.

Eventually, Doyoung got tired of the silence and the staring. “What?”

“How’s the heartbreak?”

“I’m bored of it now. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“You’re facing things you’ve kept bottled away. It’s normal for them to come out in a way that surprises you.”

“I forgot I was talking to Doctor Jung for a moment there. What a pleasant moment it was.”

Jaehyun smiled, and Doyoung kind of wanted to bite his dimples. It must have been some animalistic instinct from millenniums ago, when humans ate things that were too cute. “I’m not a doctor yet. Just a concerned citizen.”

“Then you should be in the city hall instead of scooping me out of the grass. I hear petitions go far these days.”

“What would I be petitioning? For a single person to get his head out of his ass?”

Doyoung shrugged. “I mean, if it was law, I’d probably be more inclined to do it.”

Jaehyun laughed. It was a deep noise, the kind that would be pleasant to hear with your ear pressed against his chest. Doyoung drank more of his coffee and thought about banging his head against the window until either the glass or his skull shattered. “What do you do for a living, Doyoung?”

“I boss people around.”

Jaehyun laughed again. Doyoung told himself he didn’t say that just to hear the laugh, but he was adept at ignoring himself. “In what setting? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“I’m the head of an accounting team for an online marketplace.”

“Wow,” Jaehyun said. “Sounds stressful.”

“For the people that work against me, maybe.” Doyoung took another sip of his coffee and thought about the time one of his shitty colleagues made the sweet intern cry. The mistake Jeno had made was easy to resolve, but his tears had lasted hours, until Doyoung had found him hiding in the break room. After the confrontation that ensued over the respect the kids deserved, Doyoung had found his colleagues treated the interns very differently. They also avoided Doyoung at all costs.

“Why do you say that?”

Doyoung smiled. “Because I’m mean.”

“You’re not mean.”

“How would you know?”

“Because if you were mean you would have shown it by now. When people are in dark places, their true characters are hard to hide. You’re cynical and blunt, but you’re not mean.”

Blunt. That was one word for it. It wasn’t what his colleague had called him when he’d run to their boss, purple in the face and intent on suing Doyoung out of the company, but it was kind of in the right area. “Thanks, Doctor. Can I have a candy now?”

Jaehyun laughed again. “What time do you start work today, Doyoung?”

“Not until ten. Why?”

Jaehyun checked his watch. “Well, you have four hours until then, and I’m due to meet a friend for breakfast soon. Wanna join?”

Doyoung looked down at himself. At his sockless self. “I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

“You can borrow some clothes if you like.” At Doyoung’s immediate scowl, Jaehyun shrugged. “You don’t have to, but if you go dressed like that he’ll definitely make fun of you.”

“Why would you want to force your friends to suffer my company?”

Jaehyun blinked slowly. “Because I like you. I’d like to have breakfast with you.”

Oh to be twenty-four again and ready to fall in love. Just as Johnny was, Jaehyun would have been the perfect candidate for Doyoung’s unrequited, bleeding heart. As it was, at twenty-nine Doyoung was still a masochist. “Okay. I’ll come.”

The way Jaehyun lit up hurt to see, but only because Doyoung wanted to see it more. “Great! Wait here and I’ll find you some clothes that should fit.”

“Can I have socks too, please?”

Jaehyun looked down at Doyoung’s feet. “That’s why you kept your shoes on?”

“My toes are so cold that they hurt,” Doyoung admitted.

Jaehyun laughed himself out of the room, and the next thing Doyoung knew, a pair of socks was hitting him in the back of the head. A pretty pink shirt followed, an embroidered peach on the pocket.

In the privacy of Jaehyun’s neat bathroom, Doyoung got changed and then left Taeyong a list of abrupt messages that made little sense but explained he wouldn’t be home for breakfast. He stared at himself in the mirror and once again was disappointed by what stared back, but again, at least he’d remembered deodorant.

-

He’d expected breakfast.

He hadn’t expected to walk into a closed bar and receive a mimosa for the effort. Especially not from a man just as handsome as Jaehyun.

“Thanks,” he said faintly. “This is… breakfast?”

“It is when you own the bar,” the man said, grinning. He offered a hand. “Yuta. Jae’s platonic baby boy.”

Jaehyun scowled. “I hated that.”

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Yuta said, grin as wide as his face. “Now what’s for breakfast?”

Doyoung looked at Jaehyun. “You’re cooking?”

“Yeah. If I left Yuta to do it he’d burn the bar down.”

Yuta nodded and raised his glass. “Luckily business is booming, so no need for that insurance fraud yet. For now, Jaehyun cooks and I make the morning mimosas.”

Jaehyun lifted his own drink. “Happy breakfast to us.” He sipped from the glass and then turned back to smile at Doyoung. “Make yourself comfortable. This breakfast is gonna knock you away.”

“My friend made me pancakes last week,” Doyoung said, haughty. “We’ll have to see how your cooking compares.”

Yuta laughed. “Come and sit down Doyoung, take a seat and a drink. Don’t let the mimosa go to waste or I’ll have to drink it, and I’m already on my second.”

“I have work at ten, I really shouldn’t be drinking,” Doyoung said, allowing himself to be dragged to the nearest booth. Jaehyun left for the kitchens behind the bar, but Doyoung didn’t even have time to look for him, immediately sat on by Yuta who just laughed before scooting over to make a little space.

“It’s a weak mimosa, don’t worry. It’s more about the symbolism of it than anything,” Yuta said, sipping his drink. “If you think you’ve got alcohol, you feel better prepared for the bullshit that is life.”

“If you need the thought of alcohol to get you through the week I think you might need to see a specialist.”

Yuta groaned loudly. “What are you, my mother? Drink your mimosa.”

Doyoung took a sip, and found it tasted of truly little. “Oh.”

“I told you. A symbolic cocktail to start the day does wonders for your mindset.” Yuta grinned again, leaning closer, eyes dark. “Now tell me, honey. Have you fucked him yet?”

It was a good thing Doyoung was too dead inside to react, or he would have choked on his drink. “I haven’t, no.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“It hasn’t come up.”

Yuta cocked his head, considering. “I guess you’re not really his type, so that makes sense. Sorry, just had to ask. You came in wearing his clothes and I couldn’t help but wonder about the circumstances.”

 _You’re not really his type._ Doyoung’s mouth thinned. “Why am I not his type? What’s wrong with me?”

Most people would backtrack at this point, maybe apologise for offending a near-stranger. Yuta just laughed. “Jaehyun has two types. There are the big ones – and by big I mean _big._ And there are the small ones. The petite ones that let him feel in control. You’re not big and you’re not small, and Jaehyun’s never been one to enjoy middle ground.”

Big and small. Johnny and Taeyong, and once again, Doyoung was the unwanted middle ground. Even in this hypothetical fucking, it hurt to think of.

He stood abruptly, the table scraping harshly against the floor. “I have to go.”

Yuta stared up at him with big, confused eyes. “Honey?”

“I’m not your honey,” Doyoung said. He tripped as he tried to squeeze out of the booth, and the embarrassment made him angrier. The anger made the hurt all the more painful. Emotions amplified other emotions that were best kept hidden, and Doyoung could feel them all rising to the surface. He jogged from the bar, ignoring Yuta’s alarm, ignoring the way Jaehyun was cooking him breakfast somewhere in the back of the building – what the fuck did it matter? He didn’t know these people. They didn’t know him.

The air outside was cold. Jaehyun had driven to the bar, and without a car’s heating, the winter morning was too harsh for Doyoung’s bare arms.

Jaehyun’s pink shirt was too delicate to keep him warm.

-

“You look tired.” The words were accompanied with a mug of hot tea on his desk. Doyoung looked up from the massacred analytics document he’d been instructed to fix and found Jeno hovering by his desk, eye smile at half capacity, so gently concerned.

“I’m old,” Doyoung explained, helping himself to the tea. “Thank you for the drink.”

“You’re welcome, but you’re not old.”

“You’re a spry twenty-one, Jeno. Enjoy it while you can.”

Jeno laughed. “You’re not old, but even if you were, what does it matter? Age is just a number, and we all get old eventually. It’s just another stage in life.”

“I’m a piece of orange that hasn’t been squeezed properly,” Doyoung said pathetically, staring at the screen of his monitor. His contact lenses had dried out his eyes, and the staring was starting to give him a headache. “But I’ve already been thrown in the trash. It wouldn’t be as sad if they’d gotten all of my juice, but I’m still half full.”

Jeno leant against the desk, considering. He was wise for his age, sweet and respectful. Doyoung would draw blood to protect him from the shitty corporate world. “So the problem isn’t that you’re old, it’s that you feel like you haven’t made the most of the years you’ve already had?”

Doyoung groaned. “Shut up!”

“I’m right then?”

“You are. It doesn’t mean I want to hear it.”

“Why think about the life you’ve already lived?” Jeno asked. “You never know how long you’ll have left. You can’t change what’s already happened, but you can make the most of whatever is left.”

-

Doyoung’s always known he was attractive, in a very odd sense. He had wide shoulders, but his wrists were tiny. He had a long neck, but it wasn’t thick. He had big hands, but his legs always looked skinny, even when he spent those three years in college squatting with Johnny at the gym just for an excuse to see him sweaty. He was attractive, but he had the proportions of a human made out of clay by a child’s clumsy hands. Somehow it worked, but it didn’t look intentional.

He wasn’t surprised to find out he wouldn’t be classed as Jaehyun’s type.

Jaehyun wasn’t sculpted by someone clumsy, he was made with deliberate reverence. Even in his athletic gear on mornings so cold that his nose was purple, it was evident that he was gorgeous. He was proportioned wonderfully, and Doyoung knew that if he ever met Ten, he’d end up the willing or unwilling study for another of Ten’s paintings, bathed in acrylic light and all the more beautiful for it.

Doyoung rolled over in bed and faced the far wall when he heard his front door open. It was either Taeyong or a burglar, and he didn’t really care which.

The bedroom door opened slowly, the old hinges creaking. “Hey,” a voice said softly. “Tae said you’re having a rough patch.”

Doyoung squeezed his eyes shut. This was worse. This was Johnny.

“Doyoung?”

“Rough patch,” he agreed from his pillow. “I just need to sleep it off.”

“For a whole week?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Can I come in?”

“You can, but I’m masturbating.”

Johnny laughed. The bed dipped, and then Doyoung was being spooned atop the covers, Johnny’s scent warming him as he breathed it in, melting his ire from the inside out. “Don’t try and scare me away, Doie. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” he said. It had never been more of a lie.

Johnny made a noise in his throat. “Tae is helping Ten at the gallery today, or he would have come too. We know how much you like being the ham to our sandwich.”

It was just close enough to the truth, just close enough to an outright lie to make Doyoung laugh. “Go away, Johnny.”

Johnny groaned and snuggled closer. “What happened to my sweet best friend? Who left this grumpy mass in his bed?”

“God.”

“What did you do to offend him?”

“So much,” Doyoung said sadly. Against his will, he found himself relaxing into Johnny’s embrace. It was comforting, comforting in the way Johnny had always been. He was a big rocky outcrop sheltering Doyoung from life’s shitty weather. He was a good, loyal friend.

He deserved better than this.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Doyoung murmured. The sky outside of the window was still dark but that meant nothing in winter. It could have been any hour. “You should be spending your mornings with your fiancé. Why didn’t you go to the gallery?”

“Because I wanted to see you.” Johnny sat up, pulling an unwilling Doyoung with him. His eyes were curious. “Since when do I need a reason to see you?”

“Since we’re both adults with full time jobs and commitments outside of friendship.”

Johnny blinked. “That sounds like shit. It’s Saturday, anyway. Wanna watch crime dramas all day and fall asleep with a pint of icecream?”

He wanted to wallow.

He wanted to wallow, but he was just as bad at saying no to Johnny as he was to Taeyong. Besides, what was there to wallow about? His friends finding happiness while Doyoung sat on his ass and let life pass him by? It wasn’t even about Johnny anymore, it just felt like him. The hole in Doyoung’s chest once occupied by Johnny was still in the shape of his smile, but it didn’t hurt in the same way anymore. There was no longing, no spiteful envy. Just the disappointment of knowing something had passed him by.

“Sure,” he said. “If you buy the ice cream.”

Johnny grinned. “It’s already in your freezer. I came prepared for a yes.”

Doyoung thought about the day he helped Johnny pick out an engagement ring for Taeyong. The diamond was small, but it was surrounded by sapphires. Something to remind Taeyong of the starry nights they’d spent together. “You always do,” he said.

-

It was Wednesday when Jaehyun found Doyoung by the pond. He’d remembered socks this time, but his arms were still bare. His eyes were dry.

“I don’t know what Yuta said to you, but I’m sorry for whatever it was.”

Doyoung didn’t look up. He would know if Jaehyun left; his breathing was quiet but constant. “He didn’t say anything to offend me, don’t worry.”

“Then why did you leave?”

He felt himself smile at the sleeping ducks. “Sometimes the truth fucking hurts.”

There was silence for a moment, and then the crunch of the frosty grass as Jaehyun sat down next to Doyoung. He shrugged out of his jacket and lay it across Doyoung’s shoulders.

Doyoung looked out of the corner of his eye. The jacket was warm, and it smelt woodsy. Nice. Jaehyun was staring at the water, but the curve of his ear was red. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I should give you your shirt,” Doyoung said, turning back to the ducks. Despite the cold, the park was beginning to grow on him. It was never busy in the early morning hours.

“You should, but there’s no rush. You can keep it as long as you need it.”

The insinuation made him laugh. “I have other shirts, Jaehyun. I don’t need a pity tee.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know that,” Jaehyun said evenly.

“Maybe,” Doyoung allowed.

There was comfortable silence for another few minutes, until Jaehyun decided to speak again. “How’s the heartache this week?”

“Almost gone.”

Jaehyun smiled. “Are you lying?”

“A little.” Doyoung found himself smiling back, reluctant but unstoppable. “I’m definitely over Johnny. I’ve known it for a while now, but… it really does make me wonder what the hell I’ve been doing all of these years, pinning dreams onto someone that has no duty to fulfil them for me.”

“It’s not wrong to love,” Jaehyun said. He pulled his knees up to his chin and rested his cheek atop, turning his head to face Doyoung. Under the low morning light, he looked like a dream. A figment of Doyoung’s lonely imagination. A painted figure that belonged in the mist of a mysterious location, only to be known by the painter. “You should be kinder to yourself, Doyoung.”

Doyoung laughed. “Usually I’m being told I should be kinder to other people.”

“I doubt that. Maybe at work, where the goal is profit and your morals don’t align with your co-workers, but not in your life away from the office.” He blinked slowly. “I bet you’re _too_ kind, behind all of the bluster.”

He didn’t know what made him do it. He’d known Jaehyun all of a month, and realistically, they’d only spent a handful of hours together in that month. It didn’t matter though. Why would it matter?

Doyoung couldn’t help but place a hand against Jaehyun’s cheek, thumb pressed against that lovely dimple. “Jaehyun,” he said quietly. “You’re a good man, too good for this. Change your jogging route.”

He passed the warm jacket back and left Jaehyun there with the sleeping ducks, going home to his cold apartment. The toddler that lived above was screaming, so Doyoung made a coffee and had a shower, and by the time he felt ready to face the world, he took the elevator up a floor and gave the tired single mother a small basket of fruit.

“Doyoung,” she said, somewhere between relief and panic.

“Would you like me to sit with Eunji while you get ready for work?”

She looked like she would cry. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

He bowed. “You’ve done a fair amount of favours for me, and Eunji is no bother. I’d be happy to help.”

So he sat on the floor and bounced Eunji in his lap until her tears turned to laughter and she began to paw at his face with her tiny hands. She always enjoyed tugging on his hair, and he didn’t mind letting her.

Meanwhile her mother, Eunae, ran through the apartment gathering things for her briefcase, brushing her hair and smoothing out her suit. “I have a decisive meeting today,” she explained as she rushed. “I have to take Eunji to stay with my parents for the day, and they live outside of the city. She isn’t used to this kind of change in routine.”

Doyoung hummed, bouncing Eunji gently. She had chubby red cheeks, the same as most toddlers, and a happy smile. Her tiny hands smoothed over Doyoung’s short stubble and she giggled at the texture. “Good luck with your meeting,” he said to Eunae the next time she ran past. “I’m sure you’ll do well. People as hard working and capable as you are difficult to find, especially in business.”

She paused briefly to smile gratefully. “Thank you, Doyoung. That means a lot coming from you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, and the sound set Eunji off, who giggled in tandem. He smiled at her and laughed again, just to watch her face scrunch with joy as she laughed back.

He wanted kids.

Did he? He thought he did.

He loved Eunji, but he saw her on a bi-weekly basis. Babies were nice without the responsibility, but at the same time, Doyoung knew he was a responsible person when he wasn’t in the middle of some kind of existential breakdown.

What would it feel like to hear a child crying and know it was your place to wake up in the middle of the night and comfort them? What would it feel like to create a haven, a safe and loving environment for someone so vulnerable? While Doyoung bounced Eunji on his lap, he couldn’t help but want children. He wanted all of them, every child in the world that needed that safe space. He wanted them to know that they could grow up however they like, be whoever they want to be.

Eunji said something that was almost a sentence, baby babble that resembled words but also sounded like one long scream.

Doyoung nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. The misinformation around trickledown economics angers us all. When you’re a little older I’ll teach you about unions.”

He heard Eunae laugh from the bathroom. “You’re already teaching her the injustices in finance? Try teaching her fruit first.”

Doyoung frowned. He pointed to the basket he’d brought over. “See that? It’s an orange. Can you say orange, Eunji?”

She squealed.

Doyoung stroked a finger down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he called to Eunae. “But she’s not impressed by citrus. I’ll try with berries next week.”

Eunae emerged, hands open for Eunji. Doyoung passed her over and watched with a dull ache as she snuggled into her mother’s neck, content again. “Thank you for your help,” Eunae said softly. “I won’t keep you any longer, Doyoung.”

He knew when not to overstay, so he stood, bowing shortly. “The pleasure was mine,” he said. “And one last good luck, not that you’ll need it.”

She kissed his cheek softly, leaving him with the lingering scent of baby powder and comfort. “Thank you. Have a great day and come back when you can. Eunji misses you when you stay away.”

-

Eunji was probably the only person in the entire fucking world that felt like that.

Since Kun had moved to Doyoung’s office from Hangzhou, they’d gotten on pretty well. Even so, Kun looked like someone had shit directly into his green tea when Doyoung passed him another stack of papers to review.

Kun looked down. “You know, this is an average person’s weekly workload. I’d appreciate it if you’d go slower so that I don’t also have to work at your terrifying rate.”

“Please,” Doyoung scoffed. “All you have to do is check for mistakes, and we both know I don’t make those.”

Kun looked up at the stained ceiling. If he were a weaker man, he would demand to change offices like the last one had. Doyoung was pleasantly surprised to find that Kun was not in fact a weak man. “Fine. Do you need them checked by the end of the day?”

“I want to get them sent out by four.”

That gave Kun just under three hours. He sighed, all of the sexy perfect posture falling from the line of his shoulders. “Fine. Buy me a sandwich from the café downstairs and I’ll get started. You also owe me a beer next time we go out.”

_Next time we go out._

Shit. Doyoung had almost forgotten that Kun and Johnny got on well. He’d almost forgotten that drunk and heartbroken a month ago he’d made the fatal mistake of mixing work and pleasure. He’d almost forgotten that he genuinely liked Kun. In a stifling, oppressive office it was easy to forget most happy things.

“Okay,” Doyoung said. “A sandwich and a beer seem fair.”

Kun hummed, already staring down at the graphs. His glasses had started their downward slide to the bottom of his nose, as they always did. He was attractive in the way that Doyoung knew their romance would be passionate and volatile and end in divorce within two months. He wasn’t ready for that, and from the looks that Kun gave him, drunk over wine, he wasn’t ready either. They were both attractive and lonely, but not yet desperate enough to attempt to fall for each other.

It was an odd relief, but it did make Doyoung feel better as he purchased a beef sandwich for Kun and a salad for himself.

The world was full of lonely people.

Hell – Johnny had been one of them not so long ago.

Everyone was searching for more, mourning what they didn’t have, what they might never have.

Everyone was searching, but that meant that Doyoung wasn’t the only one confused and most definitely lost.

It was annoying, but at least he wasn’t as alone as he felt when he went to bed and curled into cold sheets, wondering if there’d ever be someone’s steady breath on his neck to lull him to sleep.

-

He got home to find Taeyong in his kitchen, smiling. “Hey!” he said, walking forward to press a gentle kiss to Doyoung’s cheek. “I finished work early, so I thought I’d come over and make us some dinner.”

Doyoung’s heart ached. “Thanks,” he said. “What about Johnny?”

“He’ll join us when he’s finished too,” Taeyong said. “I’ll leave him a bowl warming in the oven. I did your laundry while I waited too, I hope you don’t mind.”

Doyoung was too tired to question it. “Thanks,” he said again. “But you didn’t have to.”

“I know that,” Taeyong said, still smiling. “That’s why I did it.”

They ate hotpot for dinner. Doyoung relished each mouthful and enjoyed the thought of lording it over Renjun at work the next day. Other than Jeno, he was a close second to Doyoung’s favourite intern. Together, they kind of gave Doyoung hope for the future.

Taeyong’s engagement ring glinted in the light, momentarily catching Doyoung’s eye. It was beautiful. He’d picked it out, after all. If he hadn’t liked it he would never have insisted Johnny buy it.

“You know him just as well as I do,” Johnny had said in the jewellery store. “And it’ll mean even more to him if you had a say in which ring I picked.”

There’d been no hesitation on Doyoung’s part. Maybe it would be seen as too feminine by some people, but fuck those people. The ring was perfect for Taeyong, a small, oval ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds. It was a rose, just as he was.

Taeyong followed Doyoung’s gaze to his ring and smiled softly. “My favourite gift in the whole world,” he said. “A ring from the love of my life, chosen by the best friend of my life. What could ever mean more than this?”

It made Doyoung want to cry. Taeyong was too good for him. Johnny too. He didn’t deserve these people in his life. He didn’t deserve their devotion, not while he was growing bitter and disquiet inside.

Johnny’s late arrival was a welcome distraction from his own thoughts and Taeyong’s comfortable silence. They watched a movie together, and when Taeyong started to drift into sleep against Johnny’s shoulder, they decided it was time to end the evening. Doyoung waved them goodbye from the window as Johnny guided a sleepy Taeyong into his car.

Once they were out of sight, he closed the blinds and washed the dishes.

It was only when he decided to sleep off his numbness that he found the pile of laundry previously sat neglected in the basket. Everything was folded neatly, ironed, and scented with Taeyong’s special brand of fabric conditioner.

At the top of the pile there was a shirt, mostly unfamiliar, and a note.

_Doie,_

_Here is your laundry! Clean clothes can make you feel better without realising, so I hope this helps!_

_BTW, is this shirt new? I like it! The peach is adorable, and the colour would really suit you. You should wear it more!_

-

“Why the hell would I change my jogging route?”

Doyoung looked up. Jaehyun looked angry. “Why not?”

Jaehyun’s frown deepened into a glower. “I’m being serious. What the hell did you mean when you said that? You expect me to change my preferred route just to let you sit in the freezing grass and develop hypothermia for the sake of sulking alone? I didn’t realise you thought so highly of yourself.”

Doyoung felt his own temper rise. He stood, mainly because he was taller than Jaehyun and it made him feel a little better about being spoken down to like a child. “That’s not it at all. You should stop making assumptions.”

“You should stop acting like you have a right to tell me what to do. If I want to jog here, I will. If I want to stop to check you’re okay, I will. If I want to invite you for coffee and let you borrow my shirt and take you to breakfast, I will.”

“Just as I have a right to reject you.”

Jaehyun lifted his chin. “Of course you do. Come over for coffee?”

Doyoung’s anger diminished. It was something in Jaehyun’s forwardness, something in his strong but quiet confidence. Something in the way Doyoung was a weak man that had put Jaehyun’s pink shirt on his dresser, unable to part with it just yet. Something in the way that Doyoung hated spending these frigid, early mornings alone. “Okay.”

-

Jaehyun passed him a dressing gown once inside his warm apartment. “You’re not getting hypothermia if I can help it. Put this on and I’ll make us drinks.”

Doyoung was too tired to argue. His exhaustion from the day before had carried over, sleep a reprieve but not an end to the exhaustion. He put the dressing gown on and tried not to make it obvious that he enjoyed the scent, burrowing into the thick fabric and inhaling the side of the hood. “Thank you.”

Jaehyun just smiled, turning to his coffee machine. He was wearing leggings today. Leggings or yoga pants – Doyoung didn’t know the difference. What he did know was that Jaehyun had amazing legs, and his thighs made Doyoung’s mouth water. He felt like a creep, but he also felt too sorry for himself to not stare at Jaehyun’s ass as he puttered around his kitchen.

There was a quiet peace that seemed to come naturally to them. No real talking, no arguing, no outbursts… they both seemed comfortable with the quiet. The hum of the central heating, the bubbling of the water boiling inside of the coffee machine, the padding of Jaehyun’s socks on the tile flooring.

Jaehyun passed over Doyoung’s coffee.

“Thank you,” Doyoung murmured, unwilling to disrupt the peace.

“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun replied, just as subdued. He regarded Doyoung over the rim of his mug. “Cosy clothes suit you.”

It was a nice sentiment, one probably born of worry from Doyoung’s oddly exposed outdoor mornings, but he couldn’t bite back his tongue. “As long as you can’t see much of me, right? God forbid I wear something fitted.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Drink your coffee, Doyoung.”

He sipped obediently. It was rich. Too expensive for a student like Jaehyun, but who was Doyoung to judge? Maybe Jaehyun had a sugar daddy paying his bills. If so, good for him. “It’s nice.”

“Of course it is.”

Then there was the quiet again. It was different from the Taeyong quiet, the Johnny quiet. Everyone’s quiet rang a little differently through the air, and Jaehyun’s felt sluggish. Not in a bad way, just in a… slow way. His apartment was warm, his furniture neat. Jaehyun was the kind of man you’d want to spend slow winter mornings with, wrapped up in blankets on the couch. Sharing a shower with, shampooing each other’s hair. Spooning in bed, breath against the back of your neck, hand on your waist.

God.

Doyoung was more pathetic than he thought. He guzzled down the coffee and placed the empty cup in Jaehyun’s sink. “Thanks again. I should go.”

He bowed to Jaehyun and turned back to find his shoes at the door. It was only when he had one sneaker on that Jaehyun spoke, ever so quiet.

“You don’t have to.”

He turned back; one foot bare. “What?”

“You don’t have to leave. You could stay for a while if you like. You could…” Jaehyun trailed off, frowning. “I don’t know. I want you to stay a while longer. That’s all I know.”

It was just after half past six. Doyoung had work at eight. “Why?”

Jaehyun shrugged. His smile was small and lopsided, his ears pink. “I don’t know. I guess I like you or something, despite your attitude.”

If he stayed, he’d be late for work.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Doyoung said.

The pink of Jaehyun’s ears deepened as his smile grew. “So give me a chance to find out.”

-

Kun watched Doyoung walk into the office, eyes sharp. “Forty minutes late is a new record. It’s a good job you did so much work yesterday.”

Doyoung kept his head down, heart thudding dully. “Don’t ever mention this,” he said as he passed.

“Where were you?”

“Stuck in traffic. Shut up.”

Kun smiled. “That’s odd, isn’t it? Traffic has been pretty light this morning.”

“I was with a friend,” Doyoung spat, face flaming. “Happy now?”

“A friend?” Kun asked. “Taeyong never makes you blush like this. Neither does Johnny.”

“If you don’t shut up I’ll triple my work output.”

Kun groaned. “Fine! Ruin my joy. Leave me here, gossipless. I was going to try and live vicariously through you, but I guess I’ll work or whatever.”

Renjun looked up from his temp desk, expression droll. “Why don’t you live through someone younger? Doyoung has the daily routine of a pensioner.”

“Oh!” Doyoung said, pleasantly surprised. “Renjun, that reminds me! I had hotpot for dinner last night, so fuck you.”

Renjun immediately gave Doyoung his puppy eyes. “Did you save me some?”

“Not a spoonful,” Doyoung said sweetly. “I hope you have a fantastic day of work though. Maybe you can help me to the elevator at the end of the shift. My old bones might be too weak to hold me up by then.”

-

They hadn’t done anything.

Doyoung had sat on Jaehyun’s sofa, curled up in his dressing gown, and listened to Jaehyun talk. He talked about his doctorate, his research on child psychology, his routine. He liked to exercise in the morning because it woke him up and readied him for the rest of the day. He liked the early mornings because he liked the privacy.

It seemed there were truly few things that Jaehyun disliked. He was a rare kind of person, one that could find peace of mind in most places.

Doyoung envied him that. The only place he truly found peace of mind was his shower, forty minutes into a depression soak.

Jaehyun had laughed when Doyoung had said it out loud. “You’re dramatic.”

“Not in the slightest,” Doyoung had replied. “Just constantly miserable.”

Jaehyun had laughed again, which is exactly why Doyoung had kept up his charade.

The longer he spent in Jaehyun’s presence, the harder it was to convince himself that peace of mind wasn’t contagious. The harder it was to convince himself that here, in Jaehyun’s apartment, peace of mind wasn’t just waiting for Doyoung’s arrival, much like Jaehyun seemed to be.

-

“You seem repressed.”

Doyoung sighed and tried not to spit in the man’s eye. Another Friday, another round of drinks bought for Kun by a stranger that had the tact of a thumbtack. It was a shame his friend was just as bad, or Doyoung would have been tempted to accept more of his money. As it was, spitting was the only thing he felt inclined to do.

He smiled tightly. “What makes you say that?”

The man shrugged. “It’s not often you come to a gay bar and find a guy as pretty as you buttoned up to the collar.”

Doyoung knew he should have told Kun to change when he came out with his leather pants on. He knew he’d look underdressed in comparison, but he thought it would be for the best. He thought it meant people would back off.

He fought the urge to look down at himself, self-conscious. He knew he looked good; he just didn’t look flashy. Flashy wasn’t his style, not for nights like this. This was meant to be drinks with friends. The kind of intimate you could only achieve in overcrowded bars when you and your loved ones were pressed too close together, shoes touching, colognes mingling in the hot air. It had started that way, at least. But like so many other Friday nights, things changed a couple of hours in, and now Doyoung, in his slim black trousers, his platform brogues, and his maroon shirt, looked buttoned up.

He couldn’t have pulled off the leather trousers anyway. Only Kun had the ass for them.

“I suppose buttoned up is right,” he said. “But repressed? Don’t you think that’s presumptuous since you know nothing about me?”

He watched the man’s blush grow. “To be honest, I was just hoping to start a conversation.”

“You went the wrong way about it. Opening a conversation with an insulting insinuation is manipulative, and I feel sorry for anyone else you’ve subjected your method to.”

Kun glanced over from his own conversation when the man started spluttering. “Everything okay?”

“Where’s Johnny?” Doyoung asked, taking a big mouthful of his gin. “I want to go somewhere else.”

“He’s just sorting the tab at the bar,” Kun said. He pulled away from the man flirting with him, offering not so much as a goodbye. He put his hand on Doyoung’s shoulder and gently guided him through the crowd towards Johnny. “What happened?” he asked, quiet.

“I’m just sick of men,” Doyoung said. “The way they treat people. Who insults someone as a pickup line? It’s childish and right off the bat it makes the other person feel lesser. Even if it wasn’t intended as such, it’s immature and mean.”

Kun squeezed his shoulder. “I know,” he said, warm. “And I’m glad you were so loud about putting him in his place since it gave me an excuse to leave too. We’ll find a different bar.”

Johnny found them before they reached the bar, ushering them to the door with a wide grin and the promise of their next destination being more fun. As soon as they got outside and goosebumps rose on Kun’s bare arms, Johnny draped his coat across his shoulders and gathered Doyoung’s shivering form under his arms. “Who suggested a night out in winter?” He asked, knowing full well it was himself. He grinned at the glares he received. “Cheer up! The next bar is just a couple of streets away. It’s fairly new, but Ten says it’s got a good atmosphere. He’s gonna meet us there.”

Doyoung winced. The night was going to be long if Ten had anything to say about it.

Kun, yet to meet Ten, looked at Doyoung’s pain with concern. “Is he… not a friend?”

“Oh he’s a friend,” Doyoung said. Johnny began walking them as a conjoined three down the road. “He’s a friend, but he’s a mess.”

Johnny laughed, patting Kun’s back. “You’ll like him, don’t worry. Nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

_The messiest._

But maybe that was just because Doyoung and Ten had been assigned the same dorm in college. Trying to force healthy food between his teeth and getting bitten for the effort had tainted Doyoung’s image of Ten for the foreseeable future. Not to mention the sleep schedule.

Doyoung shuddered. During his nine hours of sleep each night, Ten was lucky to sleep a third of that. Most of the time he just painted until the fumes of turpentine woke Doyoung up and they were forced to air out the room.

He was so preoccupied by thoughts of Ten being Ten that he didn’t realise where they were going until they were through the door and headed straight for the bar.

“Oh,” he said, stomach dropping. “Fuck.”

Yuta grinned. “Hi honey. How’ve you been?”

He could feel Johnny’s curious gaze. He wanted to fall into a black hole. “Okay,” he croaked out. “You?”

“Better for seeing you. You look fantastic.”

“Thanks,” he said faintly. “I’ll have a double gin and tonic please.”

Yuta nodded, grin widening. His eyes raked Johnny slowly, then Kun even slower. “And for you gentlemen?”

“We’ll have the same,” Johnny said, eying Doyoung. “We’ll find a table. Bring the drinks over when you’ve caught up with your friend, Doie.”

And just like that Doyoung was relatively alone with Yuta, and once more he wanted to be swallowed by a black hole.

Yuta passed over the three gin and tonics, then waved Doyoung’s hand away when he attempted to pay. “Consider it the free breakfast you were owed,” he said. Then, softer, “I’m sorry. About what I said. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I was wrong to do so.”

Doyoung shrugged, picking up one of the drinks to sip. He might end up drinking the other two if the evening continued the way it was going. Thank fuck Johnny hadn’t ordered another one of his shitty beers. “It’s okay,” he said, taking another sip. “Sorry for making things awkward.”

“I have no filter and garbage spews from my mouth constantly,” Yuta said, lean arms against the bar. He wore more jewellery in the evenings than he had that morning. He was wearing makeup too. Both versions were pretty, but this one more deliberately so. Doyoung could tell from the looks the other patrons were sending his way that Yuta got tipped well. “I don’t blame you at all for acting the way you did. I was an ass, and I hurt you.”

Okay, time to change the topic. “It’s fine,” Doyoung stressed, drink still to his mouth.

Yuta looked at him with earnest eyes. “It isn’t though,” he said. “I was wrong.”

“About what?” Doyoung couldn’t help but ask. Maybe it was the alcohol or the guy from the last bar, but he could feel himself getting worked up again. He wanted to go home and put comfortable socks on and eat leftover food. He wanted to have one of his forty-minute showers. He wanted to scroll on social media and reassure himself that he was better of alone than part of one of the thousands of couples he knew that made each other more miserable together than they ever could be apart.

“You not being Jaehyun’s type,” Yuta said. That closed Doyoung’s mouth fast. Yuta chewed on his bottom lip for a second, pausing his thinking only to kiss one of his barmen on the cheek when they came to ask for their break. “I mean, you’re not his type, I was right about that. But he wants you anyway.”

Maybe that black hole had swallowed Doyoung, and this was some alternate universe where fate didn’t hate him quite as much as he thought. _“What?”_

Yuta waved him off. “Your friends are waiting, and I have to cover for Donghyuck’s break. Go have fun and I’ll talk to you when I find a spare minute, okay?”

It was a painful cliff-hanger to be left on, but when Yuta turned to another man waiting to be served, Doyoung didn’t have much of a choice. He took the three drinks and carried them to the table he could see Johnny sitting at, though Kun was nowhere to be found.

“Bathroom,” Johnny explained, making grabby hands at the gin. “Wanna find Ten when Kun gets back?”

He didn’t. “No,” he said. “I think… I think I need to go home.”

Puzzled, Johnny examined Doyoung closely. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, frowning. “What do you do when you find out someone’s attracted to you?”

Johnny’s concern turned to incredulity. “Ask them to dinner?”

Doyoung rubbed his hands over his face. “I feel like shit. I’m not ready for this. I’m not… this isn’t right. Not now.”

Incredulity turned to outright worry. “Dude,” Johnny said softly. “Attraction isn’t binding. Do whatever you like, you don’t owe anyone anything. Your life is yours do to whatever it is you want to do. Date or spend the next fifty years alone travelling, get married and have six kids or live alone with a rabbit and a hamster. Do whatever makes you happy.”

Once upon a time, Doyoung thought it would be Johnny and Johnny alone that made him happy. Now the holes that longing had once filled were empty, and Doyoung felt like half of who he was.

But Jaehyun liked him.

Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind.

“I need some air,” Doyoung said, patting Johnny’s knee. “I’ll be back soon.”

Johnny nodded, still blatantly worried, but mellow and kind enough to know that sometimes Doyoung just needed space to think.

He stumbled his way through the crowds and out into the smoking area. It was bigger than he’d expected, full of trees and multicoloured fairy lights. It suited Yuta, somehow. The bright but calming aura he exuded.

Doyoung sat down on an empty bench and stared up at the cloudy sky. When he breathed out, his air looked like mist in the cold.

A lithe body sat next to his, and the smell of turpentine hit Doyoung, acidic and familiar. “Baby,” Ten said softly. “You look to be stuck somewhere unpleasant.”

“My own thoughts.”

Ten laughed. “The most unpleasant place of all.” He rested his head against Doyoung’s shoulder and linked their cold hands together. “It’s been a while. I’ve missed you.”

Now that they were together, Doyoung could admit to himself that he felt the same. “You’ve lost weight,” he said, squeezing Ten’s hand. “I can feel it in the air. Have you been eating well?”

Ten’s smile was small against his neck. “No,” he whispered. “I’m stuck too.”

Things had to have been terrible for Ten to admit he wasn’t impervious to life. Doyoung pulled back slightly, looking at Ten directly.

He looked gaunt. Beautiful in the way he always was, lit by a magical inner light, but one that was stuttering. A candle almost snuffed by the wind. His hair was long, his cheeks hollow, his nails chipped and jagged. His clothes were shapeless and thin, his skin dull. He had pink glitter below each eye, little heart earrings that matched the shade. He looked vulnerable and alone.

Doyoung found himself at a loss. “What happened?”

Ten shrugged. “Life.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. He offered it to Doyoung. “Want one?”

“I thought you’d quit.”

Ten put one between his lips, speaking around the filter as he fumbled for a lighter. “I did quit.”

“You shouldn’t smoke,” Doyoung said, terse. “Excluding the fact that they’re awful for you, you handle extremely flammable chemicals on a daily basis.”

“I like living on the edge,” Ten said, taking a deep inhale. The smoke leaked from the corner of his mouth.

“No you don’t,” Doyoung said. It felt like he was looking at the Ten he’d met in college again, raw and bleeding from a wound he refused to talk about. “I’ve never met anyone so in denial that he’s ready to settle down and build a family.”

Ten laughed, startlingly loud. “Don’t project onto me, baby,” he said, a beguiling twinkle in his eyes, just above the sparkle of the glitter. “Not all of us want a beefy husband and three perfect kids.”

It felt like looking at the other side of a coin. If Doyoung was heads, Ten was tails. They were in the same place, stamped on the same coin, but one was looking up and one was looking down. “You can admit it,” Doyoung found himself saying. “I wont ever judge you. How could I? We’ve all been in love with the wrong person.”

“Yeah,” Ten said, grinning. “And it fucking hurts.”

“It does,” Doyoung said. “Who are you in love with, Ten?”

Ten inhaled. His eyes were brimming with tears, but when he exhaled and the smoke had cleared, they were dry again. “Someone not good enough for me. Isn’t that always the case?”

“It is. You need to aim higher.”

Ten shook his head. “That’s the problem with bad people,” he said, stubbing his cigarette out on the edge of the bench. “The worst ones always hide the best. They make you think that you’re punching up, that you’re miles below their league. They make you work for what you get. It’s only when you’re out you realise what a piece of shit you were devoting everything to, hoping to eventually get a little love in return.”

Something told Doyoung that if he ever met the man that made Ten feel like this, he’d end up in custody. The man would end up in the ICU. If Johnny ever met him, he’d end up straight in a grave. “You kept him secret for a reason, didn’t you?”

“Taeyong knew at the end of it,” Ten admitted. “Only because he walked in on one of my tantrums. Other than that, I didn’t want anyone to know. I still don’t.”

Doyoung nodded. “I understand.”

“I know you do,” Ten said, cupping Doyoung’s cheek with unbridled affection in his gaze. “You live to suffer just like I do.”

“There you are!”

They both turned to see Johnny and Kun worming their way towards them. Johnny went straight to Ten, scooping him into his arms and kissing the top of his head. Kun went to Doyoung, a little uncertain when he looked at Ten.

“Hi,” he said, choosing bravery when Ten and Johnny had eventually separated. “We haven’t met yet, but I’m Kun.”

Ten eyed him, suspicious for all of a second before he melted. “Nice to meet you, baby,” he said, smiling. “You have an amazing jawline. I’d love to sketch you sometime.”

Kun turned red faster than a stoplight. “Oh,” he said faintly. “I… I mean. Thank you.”

Ten laughed. “You’re welcome.” He tuned back to Johnny. “Is Yongie picking you up tonight?”

“Yeah. He didn’t wanna drink because of how hungover he got last time.”

Conversation between the two continued, but Doyoung was caught focusing on something ese.

Kun was staring at Ten.

Most people stared at Ten because he was Ten – he was gorgeous, a sight for sore eyes, the manic pixie dream boy of any emotionally underdeveloped man looking to bestow his personal issues onto a human outlet.

Kun wasn’t staring like that though.

Kun was staring with a fading blush and a slight frown between his brows. It was an odd mixture of unease and reverence. When Ten shivered faintly, Kun shrugged off Johnny’s borrowed jacket and dropped it over Ten’s shoulders, tucking it close.

It made Doyoung think of Jaehyun so casually passing along his clothes whenever Doyoung got worryingly cold in those early mornings. The shirt, the jacket. The socks.

Ten jolted when the jacket landed, but he smiled at Kun, wider than before. “Thank you, baby,” he said. “The chill was just starting to get to me.”

Kun nodded. He looked at Doyoung, something panicked and helpless in his eyes.

“Come with me to the bar?” Doyoung offered, feeling merciful for once. “I need to speak to the owner.”

Johnny raised a brow, close to asking questions, but Kun grabbed Doyoung’s arm in a vicelike grip and dragged him away before he could open his mouth.

“That’s Ten?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said. When Kun started to slow down, out of sight of Johnny’s probing gaze, Doyoung poked him forward. “Keep going, I really do need to speak to the owner.”

“I didn’t expect him to be like that.”

“No one ever does,” Doyoung muttered.

“He’s beautiful.”

“He is.” Doyoung couldn’t see Yuta behind the bar or serving at any of the tables. The boy called Donghyuck was back, but he was too busy for Doyoung to pester, shaking cocktails for some loved up young women holding hands and cooing together.

“He looks sad.”

Doyoung turned back to Kun and smiled without humour. “He is.”

“Hey!”

Doyoung looked over to the bar, where Donghyuck was waving at him. “Yuta is in the back, he said to send you through!”

Kun eyed Doyoung. “I’ll wait here,” he said. “Maybe order another drink.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s whatever it is. I’ll still wait here.” Kun squeezed his shoulder. “If you get cum on your trousers I saw some wet wipes in the bathrooms.”

“It’s not like that!”

Kun just smiled, bright and cheerful. “Have fun!”

Doyoung gave up the fight. He ducked under the bar and followed Donghyuck’s pointed finger to a door near the shelves of red wine. Oddly, the back of the building was more beautiful than the interior of the bar. Each wall was a different colour, blush pink, sunflower yellow, tangerine orange. The lampshade hanging from the ceiling was stained glass.

Yuta was grinning from another doorway, a glass of wine in each hand. “I’m really glad you could make it. Come through here, we can sit in the staff room.”

Doyoung followed, a little hesitant until he saw the splendour of the décor continued. The couches were leather and velvet. There was a flatscreen TV. “Wow. Fancy place.”

Yuta passed over a glass of wine. “My staff spend their evenings dealing with drunk customers. The very least I can do is give them somewhere nice to go when they’re on their break.”

Not that capitalism made Doyoung suspicious, but it made him very suspicious. “Must have cost you a lot of money.”

Yuta grinned. “Most of this is second-hand, actually. Only the TV was new when I got it. Most of the decorating I did myself with a couple of friends, and the building was close to ruins when my parents bought it. They left it to me when they moved back to Japan.” He took a sip of wine, eyes heavy on Doyoung. “I was raised on the idea of helping others and then being helped in return.”

“Is that meant to be some kind of hint that you want me to do something for you?”

Yuta laughed. “Not at all! I was trying to insinuate that if you need help, most of the time there are good people around that will be happy to support you. If you’re as good as I think you are, you’ll help those people too when they need it.”

Doyoung drank his wine. “Thanks for the wisdom, Plato.”

Yuta laughed again, loud and happy. “I can see why Jaehyun likes you. You’re quick.”

“Not quick, just bitter.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Yuta sat back on one of the couches and patted the spot next to him. “Fair enough. Come here, I need to do something.”

Against his better judgement, Doyoung took the seat next to him and let Yuta pull him close.

“Okay, look broody.”

Doyoung looked up just in time to see the selfie Yuta took of them both, realised what was happening just in time for Yuta to send the photo to Jaehyun with the caption ‘Look who I found!’

Doyoung jolted back. “Why did you send that to him?”

“Jaehyun’s my friend. He’s helped me a lot, so now I’m helping him.”

“With what?”

“Realising his own feelings are more than that of a worried bystander.” Yuta sat back and rolled his eyes. “You haven’t heard him. _Doyoung this, Doyoung that. He’s so beautiful, so intelligent, so stubborn, so sweet._ I know more about you than I know of my own mother at this point.”

“I haven’t… I haven’t told Jaehyun much about myself. I don’t know where he’s getting it all from.”

Yuta laughed again, though this time the sound was incredulous. “Are you oblivious? You don’t need to know someone’s birthday and their favourite food to know that you like them. Real life doesn’t happen like that. It’s all down to energy.”

Doyoung drank more of his wine.

“Ah. He texted back.” Yuta giggled. “He said not to offend you again because the two of you have become friends.”

“I guess so.”

It was fine. Jaehyun wouldn’t be the first of Doyoung’s friends he’d thought about fucking. He probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Friends,” Yuta said, “But if he felt more confident he’d probably ask you on a date.”

Doyoung couldn’t help but scoff. “Narcissus would die of envy if he saw Jaehyun. What does he have to lack confidence in?”

“Jeez, I don’t know. Maybe the person he has a crush on is almost entirely unapproachable or something.”

“Using the word crush makes things seem very superficial.”

“Nagging about my word choice is painfully transparent deflection from the topic.”

If only Yuta were slower. What Doyoung wouldn’t give in that moment for Jaehyun’s friend to be as stupid as he was sexy.

“I’m not unapproachable,” Doyoung finally settled on. “I’m just going through a crisis.”

“Honey, life is one long crisis. You need to stop worrying about shit that doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, thank you.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

“I was in love with my best friend and now he’s getting married.”

Yuta raised his brows. “Bummer. But if you’re not in love with him anymore why are you still caught up in it?”

Doyoung felt his own brows lower into a scowl. “It’s not that easy to let go.”

“I know,” Yuta said, his voice honest. “Shit stinks sometimes, and then the smell of it haunts you. You know what you need to do?”

“What?”

Yuta raised his wine. “Open a window. Air out the smell.”

-

That’s what he was trying to do. You couldn’t get fresher air than a park in the early hours before commuters woke up and shunned the greener public transport. Not in a city, anyway, and Doyoung would rather inhale sewage water than go camping in the great outdoors with Taeyong again. The park would have to do.

“Did you have fun last night?”

Doyoung looked up as Jaehyun took a seat next to him. He’d picked a bench this time. The grass was too wet to sit on comfortably, and the last thing Doyoung needed at this point was frostbite on his ass cheeks. “It was nice,” he said.

Jaehyun nodded. He looked tired, more so than Doyoung had ever seen. “I’m glad.”

Doyoung couldn’t help but stare. Even exhaustion suited the plains of Jaehyun’s face. He was the kind of man that would look good doing anything, but it didn’t frustrate Doyoung as much as it had when they first met. Jaehyun was probably kind enough to deserve his appearance, and that was rare in such a fickle world. “Late night?”

Jaehyun nodded again. “Thesis,” was all he said, but it was enough for Doyoung’s sympathy.

“You’ll get it done,” he said. “You’re intelligent and capable.”

Jaehyun smiled faintly. “Thanks,” he said, though it sounded slightly hollow.

Doyoung wasn’t good at this. Unspoken emotions – no. He was good at guessing, but he was just as good at putting his foot in his mouth and making things worse. But Jaehyun looked sad. Jaehyun looked sad, and Doyoung was miserable company on the best of days.

“Do you want to come over?” Doyoung asked without thinking. “Coffee?”

Jaehyun looked at him, quiet and oddly intense. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Doyoung said, surprised to find he meant it entirely. “Come over, Jaehyun. I’ll make you some of my cheap coffee.”

-

It had been a long time since he’d seen his apartment through the eyes of someone else. Home was home, whether it was tidy or disgusting, and Doyoung knew his space well enough to walk from his bed to his fridge with his eyes closed, too humiliated by his own actions to watch while he ate cheese straight from the block in the middle of the night.

Jaehyun seemed pleasantly surprised by the apartment. Doyoung couldn’t blame his doubt, considering the way their somewhat tenuous friendship had grown. He’d acted more like a troll living under a bridge than the well-paid accountant he actually was. Though, as he dropped his keys and wandered through to the kitchen, Jaehyun not far behind, he considered the troll life. It was probably better suited to him than accountancy. No customer service, no team leading, no watching everyone else find happiness. Just Doyoung and a bridge.

The more he considered it, the more appealing it sounded.

“I like your apartment,” Jaehyun said, subdued. He was smiling ever so slightly as he looked at the couch. “I didn’t expect it to be so homely.”

“What do you…” Doyoung trailed off as he realised what Jaehyun was looking at. Not the couch.

Dochi.

Dochi sat pride of place in the middle of the couch, tucked into the throw.

Well. At least humiliation was familiar enough to ignore. “I forgot to tell you I have a kid,” Doyoung said, hoping his voice remained even. “If you ask nicely I’m sure he’d scoot over and share the couch.”

Jaehyun’s sadness seemed to evaporate. He smiled so beautifully that even in the dreary morning Doyoung could have sworn he felt the sun against his face. It kind of made him want jump into the oven and broil himself.

Instead, he turned the kettle on.

He used his favourite mug to serve Jaehyun, decorated with a novelty cartoon rabbit that Taeyong had bought him for his birthday years ago. It was faded, but it always seemed to hold the perfect amount of liquid. Jaehyun seemed to need that, and Doyoung had enough sense left to realise that being a good host was important even if he was considering giving up his lifestyle for under-bridge-dwelling.

When he returned to the couch, Dochi hadn’t moved. Jaehyun had squeezed in close to the arm, unwilling to move the small stuffed hedgehog.

Doyoung passed over the coffee, nodding when Jaehyun murmured his thanks.

Taking a seat on the other side of Dochi, Doyoung glanced around at the apartment and wondered what it was Jaehyun saw. The white walls? Neat, pale wood furniture? The myriad of plants Doyoung had a schedule for watering pinned to his fridge?

“I really like it here,” Jaehyun said, quiet. He looked down at his coffee, ears red. “It smells like you.”

“It’s my home,” Doyoung said. “If it smelt of someone else I’d be worried.”

Jaehyun’s smile widened, but his head didn’t lift. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

It was so unexpected that Doyoung couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you ill? Should I take you to see a doctor? An optician?”

“Your life didn’t go the way you wanted it to,” Jaehyun said, shocking the humour from Doyoung’s expression. “Things hit you so suddenly and with such force that you were left reeling. But you still made me laugh. You still wiped your eyes and told me to fuck off. And then you softened. You stayed for coffee.” Jaehyun’s smile had dimmed again, but it wasn’t gone. Just subdued, as he usually seemed to be. “I’ve never been in love and I don’t know what heartbreak would mean unless it happened to me. I can only imagine for now, but love is starting to make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

Jaehyun shrugged and sipped his coffee. “Love is peace, right?”

“I think love is whatever you make of it, Jaehyun.” Doyoung’s eyes were burning, but he didn’t know why. It wasn’t tears but something else. Maybe indigestion.

“I lied to you when we first met,” Jaehyun said, still looking down at his coffee. “I don’t really like jogging this early. I only do it when I’m stressed, when I struggle to sleep.”

“You didn’t lie, you never said you liked jogging early.”

“I said it was a hobby, which insinuates I enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Doyoung said faintly, lost as to the direction of the conversation. It sounded like if he wanted to he could turn this into another useless argument, but for some reason he didn’t have the energy for it. Or rather, he could see that Jaehyun didn’t. Doyoung was rarely merciful, but something about seeing Jaehyun stressed, half asleep, and unable to hide the way his ears blushed when he met Doyoung’s gaze… it softened him. Just this once.

“I’m so tired,” Jaehyun admitted, putting the almost full coffee on the table. “I have been for months.”

Doyoung didn’t know how to fix that. He didn’t know what to do other than not make things worse by arguing. “If you were your own doctor, what would you advise?”

Jaehyun glanced at Doyoung quickly before moving his eyes to the big window, where the sky outside was only just beginning to lighten. “I’d tell myself to find the place I’m most comfortable and rest. To sleep, you need to remove yourself from the environmental stress.”

“Where are you stressed?”

“I’m writing a thesis, Doyoung,” Jaehyun said with some humour. “I’m stressed everywhere.”

“How do you feel now?” Doyoung asked. “Here? Away from everything?”

“A little better,” Jaehyun said, barely audible. “Sleepy.”

Jung Jaehyun inspired a very specific kind of longing, one Doyoung thought he had moved beyond once he realised at the tender age of eleven that he’d never be the princess in the tower rescued by the handsome prince.

Turns out he hadn’t moved beyond shit.

Having Jaehyun on his couch, too kind to move the stuffed animal made Doyoung realise something. Longing was there for a reason, right? You needed to want something to move forward. You needed to need something, someone, to take a leap towards happiness.

“Don’t drink that coffee,” he said. When Jaehyun looked up, surprised, Doyoung barrelled on regardless. “Take off your jacket and go take a nap in my room.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “I need to stu-“

“It’s Saturday,” Doyoung cut in. “And it’s not even seven. You should sleep, Jaehyun. If you feel comfortable enough to do it here, then why not?” He pushed Dochi gently into Jaehyun’s lax hands. “Take him with you,” he said gently. “He brings sweet dreams.”

Jaehyun stared at Doyoung, something unreadable in his gaze. He looked soft and inviting, but even Doyoung wasn’t unhinged enough to kiss someone sleep deprived and swirling in a stress vortex.

“Are you sure?” Jaehyun eventually asked.

“I’m sure,” Doyoung replied, unsure. “You’ve taken care of me enough, Jaehyun. Please get some rest.”

There was another pause filled only with Jaehyun’s intense stare, but after a long moment he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Doyoung said, reaching over for Jaehyun’s discarded coffee. He drank it in gulps, enjoying the burn. “Fuck. Waste not want not, or whatever.”

Jaehyun looked at the mug, then back to Doyoung, his ears reddening. “That’s an indirect kiss, you know.”

“Shut up,” Doyoung said without thinking. “Sleep and then you might get a direct one.”

The blush on Jaehyun’s ears blossomed into full bloom. “Oh,” he said, weak. “Are you sure?”

Doyoung could feel his own cheeks reddening. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You’re too young for me. Mentally, I’m in my eighties. Yuta said you’re into me, and I don’t know why you would be, but I like you too. But you’re too nice. You’re too young.”

“I’m twenty-five in February,” Jaehyun said. “That’s not too young.”

Doyoung had seen Jaehyun’s licence when they first met, but he couldn’t remember the exact dates, just the feeling of dismay at being cared for by a toddler obtaining a doctorate. “Alright,” he said now. “What day?”

“The fourteenth.”

The fourteenth. “Valentine’s day?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh fuck _you,”_ Doyoung said, laughing incredulously. “Go to sleep, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun laughed, still red. He ducked his head, dimples pressing into the soft skin of his cheeks. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Doyoung said.

And while he’d been kind of nervous about starting a mental decline as soon as he was alone, he sat, Jaehyunless but oddly calm.

Something needed to change, right? There was only so many times you could break your heart in the same place, the same way, before you stopped fearing the other alternatives. So what if things didn’t work out with Jaehyun? The worst that could happen was Doyoung ending up back here, on his couch and confused about the passage of time.

He’d still have his friends. His job. His nice apartment and Dochi.

He wouldn’t have Jaehyun, but he never would if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass and admit that he’d been mourning Johnny because of his own fear about being second choice instead of the lost love.

Jaehyun had seen Doyoung at what was undoubtedly one of his lowest points, and for some reason he still seemed interested.

Doyoung couldn’t account for Jaehyun’s taste, but at least he could sit in silence with two coffees buzzing through his bloodstream and admit to himself that the feeling was mutual.

-

An hour later and Doyoung, deep in a philosophical headspace, had still forgotten to call Taeyong.

“I brought waffles!” Taeyong shouted, letting himself into the apartment with his stolen keys.

Doyoung looked up from his emotional void, immediately panicking _. “Don’t shout!”_ he hissed, clambering off the couch. “And don’t freak out, I mean it.”

Taeyong paused, eyebrows lowering. “What? What’s happened?”

Jaehyun’s feet hitting the floor in the bedroom were audible to both men.

“Don’t,” Doyoung said, close to begging, “Don’t freak out-“

The bedroom door opened and Jaehyun walked through, hair in disarray, face puffy from sleep. “Hey,” he croaked, rubbing one eye. “I heard shouting. Is everything okay?”

Taeyong stared. His eyes moved from Jaehyun’s hair to the way his eyes were entirely focused on Doyoung, to the way he was clutching Dochi in his spare hand.

And then he freaked out.

“You’re the guy Doyoung has been meeting in the mornings!” Taeyong said, volume growing with each word. “No wonder he’s crazy about you, you’re gorgeous! I’m so happy for you both!” He put a hand to his mouth, eyes watering. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped him. I was beginning to think nothing would make him happy again, but I knew from the first morning he’d met you that he’d be okay. He smiled like he hasn’t smiled in years.” He gestured between them. “When did this happen? Officially, I mean.”

“It hasn’t,” Doyoung choked out.

Taeyong blinked. “Hm?”

“It hasn’t happened yet. Nothing has happened yet. He took a nap because he’s stressed.”

The colour drained from Taeyong’s face. “So… you’re not together?”

“No.”

“Not yet,” Jaehyun said, meek.

Taeyong slowly placed the bag of waffles on the floor. “I’ll leave these here.” He pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry for presuming. I’ll go home and let Johnny laugh at me now. Sorry. I’m – so sorry.”

And then he was gone.

Jaehyun gently placed Dochi back on the sofa, then picked up the bag and peered inside. “Oh cool! I love waffles.” He looked up and smiled at Doyoung. “He seemed nice.”

“He is,” Doyoung said. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Jaehyun said, smile widening. “I feel human again. I like your bed.”

“I like you,” Doyoung said, stupid. “I didn’t think I could because of Johnny, but I do. I like you more than a reasonable amount for how much about you I actually know.”

Jaehyun passed Doyoung a warm, sugary waffle from the bag. “Great!”

Doyoung took the waffle, biting cautiously. He chewed slowly, waiting for Jaehyun to say more, but he didn’t. _“Great?_ That’s it?”

Jaehyun shrugged, smile annoyingly peaceful. “I’m trying to act casual. Is it working?”

“It’s pissing me off.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun said, dropping the paper bag to the floor. “Guess I’ll act on my feelings, then.”

And then his hands were on Doyoung’s cheeks, and he was kissing the sugar from Doyoung’s mouth. He tasted of coffee, he smelt of Doyoung’s pillows, and when his tongue grazed the roof of Doyoung’s mouth, he made a noise Doyoung had never heard before. Something high pitched and intimate, something he knew he didn’t want anyone else to know about.

Doyoung’s hands sliding to Jaehyun’s waist, something hot and possessive inside of him reared its head in a way it never had. Jaehyun was soft and kind and argumentative, and if fate had placed Doyoung’s pathetic teary form on Jaehyun’s jogging route for a reason, he was tired of fighting it.

If the universe gave Doyoung the chance to kiss Jaehyun, to eat breakfast with him, to fuck him immediately after because neither of them had self-control, then he was going to take the opportunity, and he was going to enjoy it.

Even if Johnny turned up a couple of hours later, Taeyong and apology waffles in tow.

“Damn,” Jaehyun said, walking with a limp, hickeys bright against his neck, eyes lazy as he nudged Doyoung out the way and took over coffee making duties. “I can see why you wanted him. Both of them, actually. D’you think they’d be down for a foursome?”

“No,” Doyoung said immediately, shoving Jaehyun back out of the way to continue making the coffee. “I’m not sharing you.”

Jaehyun smiled, smug in a way that told Doyoung he’d only asked the question because he’d wanted to hear that exact reply. “Great,” he said. “I’m not sharing you either. Maybe if you make the coffee badly they’ll leave early, and I can bend you over the counter like I thought about this morning.”

Doyoung reached for the salt and dumped a large helping into Johnny’s coffee. “Good idea. Pass me the cayan powder.”

When Jaehyun was turned away, Doyoung put salt in his coffee too, but not because he didn’t like Jaehyun or anything.

Just because he wanted to.

When they all took a sip and Johnny frowned down at his mug, asking, “Does this taste odd to anyone else?”

Doyoung pressed his lips together and tried not to laugh as Jaehyun glared at him, fire in his eyes as he said, “It tastes perfect to me. Thank you, Doyoung. I can’t wait to return the favour.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank u sm for reading!!!! Kudos/Comments/Bookmarks are always welcome too! I hope everyone has a good week xo


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